Beacons
by BregoArodShadowfax
Summary: "I've seen you.  Since I was small.  I've seen you everywhere." -Ten times their paths run side-by-side and the one time they finally meet. Finn/Kurt, AU


**Title: **Beacons  
><strong>Author:<strong> AoiTsukikage  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>CharactersPairing:** Finn/Kurt  
><strong>Chapter:<strong> 1/1  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2580  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Let's say everything to be safe :)

**Summary/Warnings:** "I've seen you. Since I was small. I've seen you everywhere."

-Ten times their paths run side-by-side and the one time they finally cross. AU

**Disclaimer:** I, unfortunately, do not own these characters, no matter how sad that makes me. I do, however, promise to return them when I'm done with them. :)

**Beacons**

Finn Hudson doesn't think he's gay.

He's always liked girls (heck, he even almost got one pregnant once. But he's not talking about that) and when he thinks about the guys he was friends with in high school, Puck's rebel attitude and Sam's boy-next-door charm, he can see how girls would find them attractive but he certainly never did.

But then…

Then there's The Boy.

The Man now, probably, but Finn will always think of him as The Boy and that's simply because the first time he saw him, he was about five.

The first time he saw him, he changed his life.

It's been twenty years. Finn still doesn't know his name, only that he just keeps appearing like something's drawing them together.

But, as he said, it all started when he was five.

000

He was at the playground, digging in the sandbox while his mother watched over him, and at one point he'd looked up to see a father and his son playing on the swings.

The boy was almost cherubic, not that he'd have known that word then, but he had rosy, chubby cheeks and bright eyes and he was laughing, the man pushing him higher as he squealed and hung on tightly to the chains on the swing.

At some point a woman wandered over, eyes soft and full of tenderness, and laid a hand on the man's arm with an admonishment of, "Burt, you're going to frighten him…"

"He's a big kid. He can take it; can't you, kiddo?"

And Finn didn't hear any more because his mother decided it was time to leave, but he looked back just once at the boy before they left the playground.

000

The second time was a few years later, at the cemetery. Finn and his mother were visiting his father's grave when Finn felt a strange prickling on the back of his neck and turned, seeing the boy and his father, both in rather sombre suits, walking through the cemetery.

The boy looked like he'd been crying, tear tracks down his face and nose beet-red, and his father stopped and held out a hand which the boy took without hesitation. Somehow Finn knew what had happened, even at that young age: knew that the beautiful woman with the kind smile had died, and he felt a pain in his chest at the thought.

He managed to sneak off to the fresh grave, noting the last name and committing it to memory.

Hummel.

000

The third time was just before junior high, Finn playing football in the park with a bunch of the guys, and he spotted the boy standing by a tree, watching them without trying to seem suspicious. He was a little taller but still looked rather young for his age, shifting from foot-to-foot as he took in the game.

Finn's eyes met his at one point, brown staring into blue/green/grey/Finn-didn't-even-have-a-name-for-it until the boy broke their contact and looked off to the side.

Finn debated asking him to join but the ball was heading straight for him so he went with that instead, and by the time he remembered the boy was gone.

000

Finn didn't see him again until freshman year, in the washroom at the mall of all things. Finn was heading for the sinks to wash his hands when he saw the boy slink by, still tiny and looking like he was ten as opposed to nearly fifteen, and his pristine white jacket was covered in what looked suspiciously like blue raspberry slushie.

Finn loved blue raspberry slushies and he knew the guys at school liked to throw them at people they didn't like, but apparently they did it at the mall, too.

Which kinda sucked.

And the kid looked like he was crying again as he headed to a stall and locked the door, Finn debating going to help but it would look kinda creepy to knock on a bathroom stall.

So he just left.

But he felt horrible about it.

000

The fifth, sixth and seventh times all happened during junior year. The fifth was when his mother came home one night, scowling a little, and Finn asked what was wrong.

"Oh, nothing. I just couldn't get the truck fixed after all."

"Why not?" Finn scarfed down about half-a-bag of chips and ignored his mother's rather appalled look.

"The man that owns the shop? Burt Hummel? He had a heart attack last night," she looked sympathetic and Finn immediately perked up.

Hummel.

That was the name on the gravestone.

That was _his _name.

"Hey, mom?"

"Yes?"

"Burt Hummel…does he have a son?"

"I don't know, actually," she thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. "Why? Is it important?"

"Nah; name sounded familiar, that's all," Finn went back to eating his chips but later on that night he pretended he was going to Puck's when he was really off to the hospital, finding Mr. Hummel's room and peering through the door.

He was sitting by his father's bed, crying again (and either he cried an awful lot or Finn just always saw him at bad times), mouth moving as he spoke to his father although Finn couldn't hear through the door.

But…and Finn was surprised to feel a rather pleasant burn in his stomach at the realization, he wasn't a kid anymore.

He'd thinned out, his face was leaner and more defined and his upswept hair made him look far older than the floppy bangs Finn had seen him with before.

He was…really good looking. And Finn was saying that as a total observation and not 'cuz he was having weird thoughts or anything.

Of course not.

He decided to leave before the boy saw him because it'd be kinda creepy to see a guy you don't know just staring at you.

At least, he was pretty sure it would be.

000

The sixth was at Sectionals that year, watching the Dalton Academy Warblers, and Finn resisted the urge to make the noise of surprise he kinda wanted to.

He went to Dalton.

That was something.

And those clothes did nothing for him, ill-fitting as they were, but he was still remarkably attractive.

And the way he stared at their lead singer, like he was the Most Interesting Person Ever, was a little strange.

Although it didn't explain the rather startling burst of jealousy in his gut, because he had Rachel (maybe? They were kind of on the outs after that Santana thing even though he hadn't been dating her at the time) so why should he be getting jealous over somebody he didn't know, and a _guy, _no less.

It made no sense.

However, when they ended up tying with the Warblers, Finn was feeling rather happy.

He'd get to see the boy again at Regionals.

000

The seventh time was also the first time Finn heard his voice.

And he swore he stopped breathing when he did, because it was pure and clear and about the most perfect thing he'd ever heard.

And sure, some might call it 'girly' or whatever but it _wasn't, _and Finn's mind immediately went to far more dirty places (hey, he was a seventeen-year-old-boy, what do you expect?), wondering how low and sensual the boy's voice could actually get and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

And yes, he was pretty sure that by the way the boy was staring at his duet partner, even more moonstruck than he'd been at Sectionals, that the two were an item, even though they were kinda singing a breakup song, but…

But it was high school.

It wasn't going to last.

…He still didn't know why he cared.

000

To his surprise, he didn't see Kurt at _all _in senior year and thought that, maybe, he was done with these chance meetings with the other boy.

The thought made him sadder than he'd assumed it would.

However, one day at college he was staring out the window, pointedly putting off an essay he really had no interest in doing, and saw an unmistakeable figure crossing the street below his window.

He was tall, face more angular than ever, and he'd progressed from looking like a cherub to looking almost elven, ears nearly pointed and body slim but strong, wearing jeans that were probably illegal they were so tight and a jacket that tapered to his waist, flaring out over his hips and making Finn think that his hands would fit on those hips oh-so-perfectly.

And the boy…man…whatever he was probably knew how to move those hips.

Finn may have imagined it as he crossed the street but he could have sworn the man turned, eyes seeking out something he couldn't see, and Finn felt them sweep over him through the glass and shivered.

He never saw him at the campus again.

000

The eighth time happened just before his wedding to Rachel. He was twenty-two, living her dream in New York (note the 'her dream') and getting his suit for the wedding, a little miffed because the shop was small and, as was fairly evident, he didn't do well in small spaces.

Especially not with the attendant who was trying his best to measure Finn but Finn was still a little skittish when anybody came near him…down there. Especially guys.

Because he wasn't gay.

At one point the other man's fingers brushed a little too close to his crotch and he flinched back, bumping elbows with somebody and his entire body jerked like a shock had gone through it.

He turned, meeting those eyes that had haunted him for years, and the other man's mouth was slightly parted in surprise, Finn immediately imagining that same mouth doing wicked-filthy-things to him and…

"Sir, come over here," the attendant dragged him away to another, less crowded part of the shop and by the time Finn came out with his suit order the man was gone.

Just like always.

000

He never did try to figure out _why _the man was in New York; he just accepted that their paths were seemingly going to keep crossing and the next time the man wasn't going to get away from him.

But then the divorce happened and there he was at twenty-five, alone in a city he'd never loved living a life that wasn't his with nobody he knew because he'd never made the effort.

Rachel just…needed more than he could give her.

He'd always known it.

He just tried to deny it.

The night the divorce was finalized, rather amicably, he went and got horribly drunk, slumped over the bar and mumbling his life story to the stained, scratched wood, and he heard a high, light voice ordering something that sounded fruity and nothing like he'd ever drink.

He forced himself to lift his head up, blinking fuzzily, and the man smiled at him before accepting his drink.

"It gets better," he said, the first time he'd spoken to Finn directly, and in that moment all of Finn's limbs turned to lead and though he wanted to reach out and stop the man from leaving somehow he couldn't.

He watched him walk away, feeling like he'd missed something major, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was.

000

So, this brings him back to the present, out at Montauk for the day to soak in the sea air and stare up at the lighthouse. There was always something magical about lighthouses; they were steady, reliable, and no matter how lost you were or how long you'd been away they were always there, waiting for you to return with a cheery beacon to welcome you home.

Because that's how he feels about the boy, the man, the one constant in his life.

He's Finn's beacon.

He just doesn't know it, yet.

He breathes the salty air deeply, pulling his jacket closer to his body, and hears a rustling beside him, breath catching as he somehow, _somehow _knows who it is.

And he turns, mouth nearly dropping open at the sight of the man, just as slim and ethereal as ever, something almost not-quite-human about him, like he's just a figment of Finn's imagination.

He's real, though.

Finn knows it.

"I've seen you," the man speaks first, his clear voice carrying even over the strong sea wind and the mournful cries of the gulls. "Since I was small. I've seen you everywhere."

"I know," Finn gulps, not sure where this is going.

This guy makes him seem like a stalker or something.

"It means something. Or does it?" the other man smiled, tight-lipped and impish in his humour, and Finn just wants to _touch _him.

Just to make sure he's _actually_ real.

The man seems to have a similar thought and takes a step closer, boots crunching on the loose rock, and Finn stumbles forward himself until they're mere inches from each other, both of them unwilling to take that last step.

Finn finally can't take it any longer and reaches his arm out, skimming the man's sleeve before moving up to cup his face, soft skin under his fingers and the man shivers under the touch before reaching out himself, arms winding around Finn's neck as Finn's move to his waist, the man's hips fitting under his palms as perfectly as he'd always thought.

They both lean in, lips barely brushing, before the other man pulls back and opens his eyes. "Wait."

"I have. For twenty years," Finn kisses him in earnest this time, not surprised when the other man returns the kiss softly. His lips are as soft as his skin, moist and fruity-tasting and Finn licks into his mouth without a second thought.

It doesn't matter that he's a man.

Finn wouldn't want anybody else.

They break away too quickly for Finn's liking but the man is still looking apprehensive, eyes darting around and hair tousled from the sea-breeze, a hint of red high on his cheeks.

"I don't even know your name," he breathes, looking awed. "I'm…I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt," Finn repeats, the name rolling off his tongue with ease, and Kurt looks overjoyed to hear it. "I'm Finn. Hudson."

"Well hello, Finn Hudson," Kurt repeats in a low, flirty voice and Finn pulls him in for another kiss.

Kurt's his beacon.

And maybe, just maybe, there's something that'll keep him in New York after all.

"You, um, wanna come home with me?" he asks, gasping, and Kurt turns his head to the side coyly and blinks.

"On the first date, Mr. Hudson?"

"We've been dating a Hell of a long time, then," Finn's surprised at how _easy _this all feels and Kurt laughs at his reply.

"True. And I'd love to," Kurt's arms never leave his neck and Finn pulls him close, nose pressed against his scarf and breathing in deeply, sea air and _Kurt _mixing perfectly to create something intoxicating.

And even if he never really knew what he'd been looking for, it's been worth the wait.

It truly has.

And he knows, somehow, that Kurt's always going to lead him home.

Because Kurt _is _his home.

And he's been waiting for that his entire life.

"Come on, cowboy. Show me this place of yours," Kurt tugs on his hand and Finn laughs and laces their fingers together, Kurt's slim hand fitting easily in his own, as they leave the ocean behind to head back to the city.

**Notes:**

**1. **I don't really know where this idea came from, but it's a little more lyrical than my usual style and it was fun to do.

**2. **That's about it, really. Besides the official news from R. Murphs that the Big Three won't be back for Season 4 (no, I don't count Mr. Schue in there). I mean, I'd known it was true, but now it's official. *Sigh* Well, the three of them can always have their New York spinoff, right?

**3. **Um, let me know what you thought :D


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